


'starlit'

by commuovere



Category: boku no hero, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Swearing, bakugo's usual swearing, frightening memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 07:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15480174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commuovere/pseuds/commuovere
Summary: Bakugo’s nightmares are a threat to his sanity, but Uraraka is somehow always there.





	'starlit'

**Author's Note:**

> I thrive on comments, and welcome them all!

Bakugo forgot what a nightmare felt like.

A heart-caving, shivering feeling forks across his chest, eyes darting frantically at every shadow against the walls. His chest is heaving, flashing images of buried fears and forgotten realities pulsing with his splitting headache. _Breathe, you fucking idiot, breathe._ But the more he berates himself, the more oxygen evades his lungs. This wasn’t really supposed to happen, in fact it hasn’t happened for months since he met _her_. God knows what Bakugo would do to the person who found out his secret. That every detail about Uraraka has occupied every crevice of his mind. Like the way her eyes lit like star-fire or the way those plump cheeks flushed a rosy hue or the way she shattered his heavy facade. Everything. Everything about her.

He swallows, lips dry, and roof of his mouth thick like goo. Bakugo growls at his body’s distress reaction, clenching and releasing his fists as if to get rid of the trembling. The screaming. The blood. The pain. _Her smile._ The screaming. The terror. The pain. _Her smile_. The screaming–her smile, her smile, her smile, _Ochako, Ochako, Ochako_ \--. He whispers her name like a mantra, like it’s his religion, like its a spell that would make all the pain disappear. Yet, the despair remains. The suffocation, the trembling and the cold sweat creeping down his neck continue to remind him of how he refused professional therapy. And now, a bitter regret coats his tongue like tar. The nightmares return as wraiths against his soul, slashing and tearing at all the emotions he’s desperately sewn together.

Minutes pass, but Bakugou is still in the same situation. Fumbling around for his phone, he resorts to a sudden, uncompromising determination. Her. Every cell in his body begins longing for her. To see her. She’ll know. She’ll know how to fix it. She can fix him.

Sifting through the contacts on his phone and past stupid nicknames like “Tape” and “Alien” or “Shitty Hair”, he finally reaches hers—not shortened, not perturbed in any way, just simply and purely “Ochako”. Though still struggling to breathe, her name alone felt like butterflies were set loose in his chest. He grunts, a natural reflex, but in reality he’s stopped fighting the denial long ago.

 

**[Katsuki]- 1:24 a.m. I need you.**

 

Okay good, now he’ll just go, and he’ll go to the balcony and she’ll know and find him there and everything will–

Wait. Wait wait wait. What did he just type?!

 

_I need you._

 

“Fucking shit.” He whispers, body shaking, and palms scorching as he rubs his eyes to double check his embarrassment. He could swear he wrote “I need to see you” very clearly, but the text magically became three words that held a very different, emotionally charged message. It wasn’t…entirely wrong though. It’s just that Bakugo wasn’t the type to say so directly.

He flings off his covers, fitting into torn workout shoes, and bursts into the hall as if it would do any good to fix his blunder. And when he reaches her room, realizing his legs had led him there without thinking, she pulls open the door with equal frantic measure.

She’s here. She’s here in front of him. Deep amber eyes, soft skin, messy hair and all. He wants to comment on the bags under her eyes, on the concern wrought on her lips, at why she was awake at all. But her eyebrows are twisted in worry, and despite the madness, Bakugou impulsively reaches out and presses a shaky, calloused thumb between her brows.

“No… frowning.” It was a thing they did often–a tease, bout how she’d get wrinkles in the next five years if she kept that habit. So, he tries to shoot a cheeky grin but instead it transforms into a twitch at its deliverance. Before he could say another word, or even try to retract the statement in his text, Uraraka grabs the collar of his black tank and tugs him inside.

No word, no pitiful gaze, no “I’m sorrys” and “It’s okays”. Bakugo finds himself getting backed into a wall, but he’s like jello, releasing agency, and allowing himself to be completely and irrevocably in her discretion. He doesn’t mind it all. And he doesn’t mind when she takes control and tosses her arms around his neck the textured pads of her fingers stroking his hair and brushing against his nape with a coaxing reassurance.

He tries to breathe, and it comes out it knots. But she’s here, she’s here, _she’s here._

Everything about her, everything, like the rose scent of her shampoo, like the, faint scars that littered her arms in etched patterns. Like the curve of her back and the shy push of her body. And anything, and everything about the way she ignores the uncontrollable, stressed heat he was emitting, and presses herself into the hug with utmost, tender resolve. Because he said he needed her. And she’d answer without hesitation.

Everything about her sent him reeling.

He thinks his hands are gentle in returning her grasp, and he had half a mind to distance her as a scorching sensation begins smarting across his skin like wildfire. But its not long before his face falls into the crook of her neck, and its not long before his hands clutch desperately at the back of her shirt. With the lulling movement of her fingers entangled in his hair, he can finally feel his heart beat and it’s almost—almost–beating faster than hers. Bakugo sucks in another shuddering breath, and this time, finds he can let it go.

The next day, she catches his eye, and though the entire class saw grumpy toad Bakugo glaring at sweet, princess Uraraka, he didn’t care. He saw entirely, completely, and only her. _I know you’re okay, but when you’re not, I’ll always be here._ She says this without moving her lips, and Bakugo doesn’t argue with the fluttering that teases across his chest. Because he believes her. He believes that she loves him. Her starlit eyes said so.

Bakugo would’ve smiled, if not for a cheeky grinned Ashido and nosy-faced Kirshima peeking into his line of vision, both desperately hungry for any crumb about Bakugou’s love life. So he decides to keep them guessing, noisily threatening to Howitzer them to the next dimension.

It was fine like this, as long as she’s his, and as long as he’s hers. They’re going to be okay. Both of them.

He could swear he heard her laugh.


End file.
